


Ice Cream

by scorpiostyle99



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Eye Licking, F/M, French Kissing, Hook-Up, Licking, Making Out, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiostyle99/pseuds/scorpiostyle99
Summary: 12/26/2019: After reading various things and doing some serious reflecting, I've decided to go back and edit this in order to make it less cringy. Hopefully, this is a more tolerable read than my first attempt, where it was painfully obvious that I was a virgin.So, if you're looking for some Harry smut with a female, sit back and enjoy.





	Ice Cream

Over the course of this week, we’ve been recording our singles that we’ll debut live at the finale so that the studio version can get released once the competition is over and a winner is declared. In Pink World’s case, we’ve chosen Thomas’s song “Cliché”, and Puck and I have taken turns writing verses for it. For the most part, everyone’s been pretty exhausted when we get back to Harry’s place, and people are hitting the hay pretty early. Even with that in mind, I’m still baffled when by ten pm, Harry and I are the only two people in the house awake.

I feel like there's some unresolved tension between us. We've certainly been bantering more frequently as the finale gets closer, which I know has gotten under Puck's skin, even if he hasn’t directly said anything to me about it. Still, there's a part of me that wonders what it would be like to have some fun with Harry, and this evening seems like the most opportune time to fulfill that fantasy, especially since I don't know if and when another moment's going to pop up where he and I are alone.

"You okay, Tara?" Harry asks me, forcing me to get out of my head. "You seem awfully quiet." I've been helping him wash up the day's dishes by drying what he sets in the dish drainer and putting clean dishes away for the past fifteen minutes, but we really haven't said a word to each other since we got started.

"I was just letting my mind wander," I answer. He sets the dish that he just rinsed in the dish drainer and turns his head to look at me.

"I need to tell you something." He utters those words so seriously, I start worrying about what he would want to tell me.

"I didn't fuck up putting away dishes, did I?"

"No, it's not that. And before you ask, you didn't lose your spot in the finale, either. In fact, it doesn't have anything to do with the competition."

"Then, what is it, Harry?" I inquire. "What do you need to tell me?" He sighs, setting the sponge down on the little holder it belongs on.

"It's a bit complicated, but basically back in October Puck made out with Louis." Wait, what? Louis's into guys? And Louis was into Puck enough to kiss him?

"Who told you this?"

"Louis himself. We'd gotten into an argument earlier that evening, and I guess the two of them were eyeing each other up to that point, and so Louis went to Puck's room to cool off, one thing led to another, and they started making out."

"Hold on." A very important detail in Harry's story is sticking out to me. "So, when you say that you'd argued with Louis, does that mean that the two of you---"

"Yes," he interrupts. "We were." The people on social media were right, then; Harry and Louis were in a romantic relationship with each other.

"But you're not anymore." Harry shakes his head.

"I mean, we tried to make it work, but I don't think we were ever compatible, especially not these days."

"So, Louis and Puck kissed each other."

"Louis made the first move, but apparently it was Puck who had prompted him---"

"Stop," I snap, causing Harry to become concerned.

"I understand why you're upset," he tries to soothe. "I know that the two of you are---"

"It's not that," I cut him off again. "At least, that's not the only thing." I then explain to Harry about the deal Puck and I made at Manhattan Beach. The longer I talk, the more confused Harry gets.

"What's frustrating is that Puck's been a real asshole about me having a crush on you while I've not said one negative thing about him crushing on Louis, and frankly I think it's really unfair that Puck gets to do whatever the fuck he wants with Louis while I have to suppress my feelings towards you in order to not upset him," I rant.

"You're right; that is unfair," Harry agrees, which for some reason turns me on a bit. "Especially since the deal wasn't supposed to be one-sided."

"Thank you!" I exclaim. An awkward silence settles between us as Harry resumes washing dishes. He looks like he wants to say something but is having difficulty getting the words out, which is something I can relate to all too well. After a few minutes, the silence gets unbearable, and the tension present could be cut with a knife. Right when I’m about to say something to break the silence, Harry glances over at me and asks me something that causes my heart to beat faster.

“Do you want to even the score, Tara?”

“Wh-What?” I stammer out of shock. There’s no way that Harry’s suggesting to me what I think he’s suggesting.

“I just think it’s selfish of Puck to make you hold onto your…how did you put it?”

“Hall pass,” I whisper.

“Right, hall pass. Anyway, does it seem right to you that Puck gets to use his while simultaneously making you keep yours? Because it doesn’t seem right to me.” I shake my head, preparing myself to turn down his offer. Normally, I’m the type of person who suffers in silence and doesn’t like reaching out to people for help or allowing them to take care of me, but when I look up from the bowl I’m drying and at Harry, I pause. Even though he’s only in a black t-shirt and sweatpants this evening, there’s something about Harry that’s alluring to me. Coupled with the fact that we both have bones to pick with Puck and Louis, I’m starting to feel vengeful and aroused. Before my brain has the chance to stop my emotions, I tell Harry,

“I want to use mine tonight with you.” That sentence does something to Harry that makes his eyes suddenly appear to light up in flames. He finishes washing the dishes rapidly and tells me to just let them drip dry in the dish drainer, and together we rush upstairs to his bedroom. The smell of vanilla hits me as soon as we enter the room. Harry flicks on the light before walking over to the bed and sitting down on the edge, and in that moment my logic tells me that this is a bad idea, making me hesitate.

“Are you alright, Tara?” Harry asks softly, sensing my nervousness. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I’m scared,” I quietly blurt out.

“Of what?”

“Breaking the rules. And…you know…” Harry nods his head, understanding what I mean perfectly.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to, and if you want to stop at any point, we’ll stop, no questions asked. I want you to feel comfortable. Now, as for breaking the rules, wouldn’t you say Louis and Puck’s interaction throws things out the window, so to speak?” He slightly smirks at the end of his rhetorical question, and my nerves mostly dissipate and get replaced by a certain boldness that has me walk over to him and sit on his lap unprompted.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Harry observes while raising his left eyebrow, his smirk widening.

"Is that a bad thing?" I ask. Although, judging by how I'm starting to feel his dick press against my thigh, that might have been an unnecessary question.

"No, not at all," he replies as he cups the left side of my face with his right hand. He had taken his rings off before he started washing the dishes, but he’s managed to slip back on a couple before we came up here, and the feeling of metal mixed with the natural warmth of his hand feels nice on my cheek. He leans in and kisses me, making me feel like my heart jumped up to my throat. About ten seconds later, my face starts burning up. His lips feel warm, soft, and inviting. I find myself reaching up to Harry's head so that I can run my fingers through his hair, and that's the precise moment in time where we start making out. His hair's thick and silky, maybe even silkier than Puck's. Harry’s surprisingly minty-tasting tongue winds up in my mouth, making me wonder what mine tastes like to him. I hope it’s a pleasant flavor and not something like onion or garlic. That would be disgusting, I bet.

Harry’s hands slowly snake their way down my back, the feeling of skin and metal feeling just as nice there as it did on my face. Eventually, they find themselves on my butt. Harry gently squeezes it, almost like he’s testing the waters, and I let out a soft moan. Harry stops kissing me momentarily to whisper in my ear,

“You good, Tara?”

“Do it again.”

“What, this?” He squeezes my butt again, but this time it’s with a more firm and powerful grip. I clench my hands around his shoulders as another moan slips out of my mouth. Let me just tell you, this feels fucking incredible.

“You like that, don’t you, baby?” Harry murmurs, his voice deeper and more lustful than it had been in the kitchen. My mind starts spinning from the simple act of Harry calling me baby, and I get unbearably hot. I have to cool off. I remove my hands from Harry’s shoulders and start unbuttoning my blouse. Unfortunately, I’m so flustered that my hands are shaking, making it impossible for me to get a good hold of the buttons. Seeing how much I’m struggling, Harry gently grabs my hand and stops me before I tear my shirt.

“Would you like me to help you?” Afraid of my voice cracking, I simply nod my head. Harry directs me to place my hands back on his shoulders while he finishes unbuttoning my top. The cool air that hits my bare chest and stomach as Harry exposes more and more of my skin is refreshing and helps me not feel so feverish. My hands quickly grab ahold of Harry's t-shirt once my blouse hits the floor, and he relaxes enough for me to pull it over his head. Once I toss the tee aside, I take a look at his bare torso and freeze. I knew he worked out and was pretty strong based on different articles I’ve read, but damn. No amount of reading’s prepared me for how soft yet defined Harry’s muscles look, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Add in the plethora of tattoos he has, particularly the more famous ones, and I start envisioning seeing his upper body pictured in an art museum. Sure, he’s a little sweaty at the moment, but the moisture somehow makes everything pop and look that much more like a masterpiece. I could stare at it all day, not gonna lie.

"Like what you see?" he asks, preventing me from checking him out further, much to my disappointment.

"Absolutely," I answer in such a bad seductive voice that I bust out laughing.

"What's so funny?" He's chuckling right along with me, so I know he's not upset at me for giggling.

"Oh, I just sound like a cheesy porno female lead, and I can't take myself seriously."

"Don't judge yourself too harshly. I've been with lots of people that have said and behaved worse than that when they're around me."

"Must be the Styles effect: they see your face and body, and it messes with their brain."

“Are you saying that I mess with your brain, Tara?” Shit. He’s got me. The teasing smile he has plastered on his face is doing nothing to calm me down; in fact, it’s making me more fazed.

“Maybe,” I quietly answer, stretching out the a. 

“I see. So, you find me attractive, then?” He’s definitely razzing me right now, and I can barely keep myself together. As it is, my filter vanishes, and I mumble before I can stop myself,

“Maybe even sexy.”

“Attractive AND sexy, huh?” I nod my head, suddenly feeling very shy. I’m sure I’m blushing at this point.

“Tell me, Tara, do you think you’re sexy?” 

"No," I immediately respond. As soon as the word leaves my mouth, though, the memory of Puck describing the way I behaved in practice when Louis was helping us sell "Mz. Hyde" for the rock musical plays in my head, causing me to second guess myself. Am I sexy? 

"See, I think you're incredibly sexy," Harry whispers. Those sparkling green eyes and dilated pupils of his certainly help sell that statement. He leans into my neck and gently kisses it, making my breath catch. Harry glances up at me and smiles coyly before returning his attention to my neck and slowly moving his soft, plump lips down it as he kisses it. I feel like I’m floating.

"Fuck, Harry," I whisper. He plants one last kiss on the base of my neck, then leans back, his eyes moving up and down my body.

“I wish you could see how good you look right now, sitting on my lap with no shirt on and begging with your eyes for me to touch you.” Holy shit. I have no idea how to even respond to that. Thankfully, I don’t have to, for Harry leans in and resumes our make-out session. We quickly get sloppy, though, and instead of sticking to each other lips, we move all over, wanting to touch as much of each other as we can. Neck, shoulder, chest, upper arm, cheek, you name it. At some point, I find myself licking one of his eyebrows like it was ice cream, and I think he does the same to my eyelashes. What we're unable to get to with our lips, we try our damnedest to get to it with our hands like we’re two greedy kids at a candy shop.

Or maybe we're more like a couple of drunk fools hooking up after meeting each other at a club, knowing that this will most likely be the only time we'll ever get to be this intimate with each other and wanting to make the most of it before it has to end. I certainly feel intoxicated right now, and I haven't had a single drop of liquor this evening. The sounds of soft moaning fill the air, and the smell of sweat mixes with the vanilla scent to create an interesting aroma in the room. Time begins slowing down. My bra disappears at some point, and I start feeling Harry's lips and hands on me with greater intensity. 

I can only imagine what’s going through Harry’s head as we’re doing this, but if it’s anything like what I’m thinking, it’s going to take a catastrophic emergency to break the two of us apart, because I don’t want to take my hands and mouth off him. He feels like a muscular teddy bear, which matches his physical appearance perfectly; he tastes pleasantly and addictingly salty; and he smells like apples, which compliments the vanilla scent of the room quite nicely. It’s almost like apple pie topped with rich vanilla ice cream, the smell. Or maybe cheesecake topped with an apple drizzle.

It’s all quite wonderful.

"How are you feeling?" Harry whispers after who knows how long, pausing what he was doing.

"Ecstatic," I whisper back, causing Harry to chuckle and shake his head.

"You might be elated, but you're nowhere near ecstatic," he playfully corrects.

"What's the difference?" This question appears to trigger Harry to have an internal argument with himself. I don't know the exact details of the argument, since I'm not inside his brain, but I can tell by the look he gets in his eyes that he settles the debate by going, "fuck it."

"I can show you, if you want," he tells me.

"Yeah, why don't you show me what ecstasy actually feels like, since I'm apparently so clueless?" I taunt.

"Sure, Tara," Harry teases back. "Start by taking off your pants." Hold up. Can we get a replay? Did Harry Styles actually just tell me to remove my pants? If fanfiction has taught me anything, we're about two minutes away from him either fingering me, eating me out, or even inserting his dick inside me, and no one has ever done any of those things to me before now.

"You said that you wanted to know what true ecstasy feels like, didn't you?" Harry asks, still poking fun at me.

"Harry, I'm nervous," I blurt out. Immediately, he starts worrying.

"Oh, god, Tara, I'm so sorry," he replies genuinely. "I wouldn't have been that bold if I knew it would make you uncomfortable. We don't have to do anything else if you don't want to, that's totally fine by me." I get off his lap and stand up, initially intending on apologizing to Harry, wishing him good night, and going to my room. But then my mind starts imagining what would happen if I stayed and went along with the scenario Harry has set up. While I don't think I'm quite ready to have proper sex yet, the idea of having someone touch me with their fingers and/or tongue does sound appealing the longer I envision it happening.

"Tara?" Harry calls, his voice full of concern.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About how much of a fool I would be if I left right now." Harry's eyes widen in alarm.

"Tara, do not feel forced to stay just because of me. I mean it; if you truly want to end things here, then I won't hold it against you at all. I'd much rather you not feel coerced into doing something you don't want to do, especially after what happened with---"

"Harry, listen." I then reveal to him the thoughts I was having before he called my name, and once I'm done talking, he nods his head.

"I can certainly do that if it's something you want me to do," he responds. "I don't think what you describe is beyond my abilities." Now that we're on the same page, I no longer hesitate taking off the pants I'm wearing. I do take my time removing them, though. I gotta tease Harry a little bit, you know. He briefly gets off his bed so that I can stretch out on it. When my back hits the sheets, I'm unsurprised to feel silk. He's rich, after all; I feel it's almost a given for him to have silk sheets. Once I'm comfortable, Harry gets back on the bed. The rings he had on his hand are no longer there, but I can't really tell where he put them in this position. Not that I have the opportunity to sit up and look for them, because Harry hovers above me and pecks my lips before moving his down my body.

“You feel nice,” I whisper to him when his lips are just below my chest. He looks up at me with his big, bright emerald kiwi eyes and smiles with his lips closed, then resumes covering my body with his kisses. He stops just above my underwear.

“May I?” He asks expectantly.

“Yes, please,” I respond breathily, earning a chuckle from him.

“Spread your legs, love. I need to be able to slide these off.” I do as he asks, trusting him completely at this point. Once my panties are off, he gently drops them on the floor beside the bed before taking a look at my entire body for the first time. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, making me blush. His eyes glance downward at my bare pussy, which seems to captivate his attention for a few seconds.

“Everything about you is so pretty.” His eyes are still on my crotch when he says this, making my stomach jump.

“Thanks,” I mumble, unsure how else to reply. Harry shakes his head with a close-lipped smile on his face.

“Oh, Tara,” he sighs. “What am I going to do with you?” I playfully smack his arm, and we laugh for a moment. For some, that might have killed the mood, but for me, it only makes me that much more drawn to him.

“There are a couple ways we can go about this,” Harry tells me. “You can either remain lying down and I can tuck my head in between your legs, or we can switch positions and you can sit on my face.”

“I wanna see your eyes,” I blurt out.

“Oh?” His eyebrow’s raised again. “You like looking at my eyes?” I nod my head. 

“They’re quite beautiful. Not only is the color pretty, but they’re so big and round and expressive. Like, there are times your eyes have an anime-like quality to them.” I can’t believe I just said that to him. Oh god, that sounded really cringy. I jump off the bed, preparing to run away and scold myself for being so childish, but then Harry gently grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“Hey, sweetie,” he whispers, wrapping me in a hug. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed about liking my eyes. In fact, I like your eyes a lot too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Tara, I do. They remind me of the calm, cloudy days in London where it’s chilly enough to have most people stay indoors but not so unbearably cold that I can’t walk around and go on a little adventure.” Can this man get any more endearing? Harry takes the opportunity to kiss my cheek before lying on the bed on his back and motioning for me to sit on his face. Once I’m situated, I ask him how he’s doing, because a good part of his noise is covered up by me and I want to make sure he’s able to breathe.

“I’m doing great, now that I’m between the legs of the girl I’ve been fancying the past few months and she’s nice and wet for me,” he answers.

“Holy shit, that’s hot.” The vibrations from Harry chuckling make me that much more aroused, and I find myself wanting him to do more with his mouth than just laugh at me. I soon get my wish, for as soon as he kisses my inner thighs, he slowly starts licking my slit.

“Hmm, yummy,” he murmurs. It’s my turn to laugh at him for his goofiness, but my giggles start turning into moans as his tongue circles my clit in the same slow speed from earlier. The feeling building up in my body’s quite pleasurable, but I wish he would go faster. When I express this desire to him, Harry stops, making me whine in protest. I know, not my best behavior, but what can I say?

“Maybe if you tell me what else you like about me, I’ll speed up,” Harry states, his eyes twinkling.

“You’re such a narcissist!” I exclaim lightheartedly, hitting his toned arm softly.

“Oh, well. Your loss.” He goes back to licking my clit excruciatingly slow. There’s just enough pleasure running through my body that my pride disappears and I end up going along with Harry’s little game due to me becoming increasingly needy for him.

"You have a dazzling smile," I murmur. "And I'm not talking about that smirk of yours, although it does get to me from time to time. But the moment you start grinning ear to ear, that's when I get super flustered, because your eyes sparkle and your dimple become super pronounced and you just look so...fucking...cute." I'm now finding it difficult to concentrate, and the fact that Harry momentarily stops to gently kiss my inner thigh is not helping things in the slightest.

“There you go, Tara. Just like that.” As promised, he speeds up, and I end up closing my eyes. For the next several minutes, I list every single thing I find physically attractive about Harry as he eats me out. His soft, plump, juicy lips; his fluffy-looking hair; his tattoos; his muscles; his tongue; his big, strong hands; his fruity, beachy scent; everything. Soon, the pleasurable feeling running through my body starts becoming more intense, and I find myself taking shallower breaths. My legs begin shaking as I become unbearably hot. Meanwhile, Harry’s darting his tongue in and out of me while rubbing my clit in fast circular motions with his thumb. I find myself grinding against his face, which gets Harry humming in approval.

“Look at me,” he whispers. When I do, the reverent expression in his eyes pushes me over the edge, and I’m reduced to moans, curses, and Harry’s name escaping my lips over and over and over again as I begin orgasming. This must be what Harry meant by ecstasy; it becomes the only thing coursing through my mind and body. No wonder he corrected me. I feel like I'm going to explode. A few minutes later, when it’s obvious that I can’t take any more, Harry stops eating me out and allows me to flop off him and onto the nice, cool sheets. I feel really sleepy, but also quite blissful. Since I'm lying on my side and facing Harry, he's able to kiss me. His lips taste a bit salty and wet. The last thing I remember before I drift off is Harry whispering,

"You looked beautiful, Tara." 

The next morning, I wake up to Harry spooning me. For a hot minute, I’m confused; what’s Harry doing in my bed? Then, the memories from last night flood in, and I start getting a bit flustered. I’m in his bed, completely naked, and Harry and I actually hooked up. I mean, he definitely knew what he was doing, and it ranks high among my top life experiences, but part of me can’t believe I did that---that we did that.  
Harry shifts a bit in his sleep, and I can feel his dick pressing against my ass through his sweatpants. His nearly rock-hard dick.

Oh, no. I was so caught up in living out my daydreams that I completely forgot to do something for Harry in return, which I’m pretty sure is a huge no-no. Even if the mistake’s forgivable, I don’t want Harry to think that I’m ungrateful for everything he did for me last night. There’s only one thing I can do to remedy the situation, and it involves me swallowing my pride, among other things.  
I move Harry’s arm off me long enough for me to roll over and touch Harry’s shoulder.

“Harry,” I whisper, gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hmmm,” he quietly groans, putting his arm back on top of me and pulling me closer to him. My mouth’s close enough to the shoulder I shook that I could kiss it, which is exactly what I do.

“What’s up, Tara?” he sleepily mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. I take a deep breath and answer,

“Listen, I know this is going to sound silly, and you’re probably not going to like the fact that I woke you up just to tell you this, but I feel bad for not doing anything for you last night, and I wanna make it up to you.” I feel Harry tense up.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” he asks.

“Maybe,” I reply nervously. Harry opens his eyes and smiles lazily at me as he sits up.

“Come here,” he whispers kindly, gently patting his thigh. Once I’m sitting on his lap, he runs his fingers through my hair, making me tense up that much more.

“My dear, dear Tara,” he murmurs. “I thought you said you would never put a dick in your mouth.” Of course he brings up that truth-or-dare response, the cheeky bastard.

“Seriously, Harry?” I nearly exclaim. “I already---” I get cut off when he leans in and kisses me softly. While we quickly shift to making out, it’s definitely at a slower pace than it was last night. I think it makes the whole thing more intense, though. After several minutes, I find myself trying to pull down his sweatpants.

“You sure you want to do this?” Harry asks quietly.

“Yeah.” In response, he helps me remove his sweats, revealing just how hard and big he really is. For a moment, I get intimidated; he has a pretty substantial package. I gently take a hold of his dick, carefully edge my mouth over it, and slowly move up, making sure my teeth don’t scrape against it. I may be inexperienced, but I’ve read enough to know that I shouldn’t be using my teeth right now. I’m able to take about a third of him in before my gag reflex kicks in, and I take that as a signal to slide back down. I go at this pace for a bit as I get the hang of it. Eventually, I’m able to relax enough to take in another third without too much trouble, and I feel comfortable enough to incorporate my tongue into the equation. What I can’t get with my mouth, I get at with my hands. Soon, Harry gets quite chatty.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he tells me. “Love what you’re doing. It feels so good right now. Fuck, Tara, keep going.” You know, Harry acting this way over me doing this for him is actually quite arousing. I want him to be impressed with me. So, I keep going. The longer I’m at it, the louder and more talkative Harry gets. At some point, I wind up glancing upward at him, and my stomach starts doing somersaults; even though his eyes are closed, Harry looks absolutely euphoric and gorgeous. The sight of him is so riveting that I'm unable to take my eyes off him, and my heart starts swelling with pride as I listen to the constant stream of compliments falling out of his mouth. Suddenly, Harry grabs my hair and yanks it, and soon after something salty and slightly bitter shoots down my throat. Seconds later, he starts calming down, and I remove my mouth from him and swallow the remnants of what had come out of him. The roots of my hair sting somewhat, and my jaw's a bit sore, but I think it's worth seeing the idyllic look on Harry's face.

“Holy shit,” he pants, his cheeks flushed. “That was…wow.”

“Thank you,” I quietly reply, blushing slightly as I stand up. Harry chuckles, playfully shaking his head at me.

“Of course you would find a way to be all modest and cute after giving a fantastic blowjob to someone.”

“Harry, I swear---” He cuts me off by wrapping his arms around me in a hug that has me clinging onto him.

“I’m not kidding when I say that you were really amazing,” he whispers in my ear. “You should really give yourself some credit for once, Tara.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a scene from my story "Pink World", which centers around the titular band competing in a TV rock competition and One Direction (minus Zayn) judging said competition. If that sounds like something you'd like to check out, click here: bit.ly/2BHy9hi


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